


George 2.0

by CarnivalofBrokenDolls (yourrhinestoneeyes)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992), Re-Animator (1985)
Genre: Angst, Herbert misses Dan, M/M, Monsters, Oral Sex, Smut, Vampire Sex, drunk punk vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/CarnivalofBrokenDolls
Summary: There are far too many things that bring back memories of Daniel Cain, it's been mere months since the creation and destruction of their bride. So much has changed, he know he should be moving on to other things, but there are still lingering memories of what they once had.





	George 2.0

Herbert had the habit of locking himself away in the basement, he would spend days to weeks down there with his experiments. Each time an idea struck him or he thought he found a solution to a flawed system he would return to his comfort zone. He also often retreated to his lab underground when social situations and dealings with people became too complicated. In this case it was a mixture of things; his relation with the undead long haired man living in his home at the moment was becoming strange, something too intimate for him to feel comfortable with. He also had a few experiments he wanted to work on, re-work.

The other day he had come across some of Dan’s old clothes in the room that Amilyn was currently staying in, that was when he wasn’t in Herbert’s bed. 

He shook his head mumbling to himself, he needed to not think about that. It was idiotic enough the first time that he allowed the creature to be intimate with him, but it had been months since he had been close to anybody and before that had only been Dan. Dan who treated their sexual encounters like it was something secret and shameful, not because Herbert was a man, but just simply because he was Herbert.

“Stop thinking about it,” he scolded himself beneath his breath.

His hands continued moving mechanically and with ease as he pieced his new, well slightly new creation together. With careful precision, he sewed on a thumb, then a ring finger and a forefinger. 

The creation lay motionless on the metal tray, a mess of fingers and an eyeball. Herbert smile down at it, he remembered months ago when he had made a creature identical to this one. He had made it in hopes that it would intrigue Dan, make him proud. Despite his annoyance at seeing this creature Herbert could tell that Dan liked it, that he liked Herbert as well. 

What had happened, oh, right, that woman.

He let out a heavy sigh before he picked up the syringe filled with his signature glowing serum. With care he injected it into his make shift creature, Herbert watched carefully as the fingers that now acted as legs as well as hands began to twitch, the pupil dilating as the eye studied its new surroundings.

“Hello little one” Herbert greeted the creature.

He loved how docile it was, cautiously it reached out a finger towards him. Herbert lay his hand on the tray allowing it to touch him, the pad of its finger running over his palm before it decided he was safe. He watched as the creature crawled onto his palm settling comfortably.

Memories flooded him as he smiled fondly down at it. There was a tug of sadness when he thought about Dan, he missed the intellectual company of his friend, of his partner. Dan understood him to a certain degree, if it wasn’t for his ‘morals’ and his emotions then they would have conquered death together, but Dan pulled away from him all because of that stupid woman.

Herbert gently set the creature back down on the tray before getting up from his seat. He needed out of the basement, he decided he would allow himself the luxury of sleep for that night, mentally he was feeling rather drained. There were marks on his arms that were still quite sore from his injections and his undead housemate seemed to have a disdain for him injecting himself with his own death cure. He couldn’t imagine why the creature wasn’t okay with it, not like Herbert cared what Amilyn thought of course.

He went into Dan’s room thankful to find it was vacant. He went over to the dresser, he opened the top drawer pulling out one of the white tank tops that was neatly folded inside. He felt an ache in his chest that the shirt still smelled like Dan, the dumb cologne that he wore daily, one he only wore because Meg had bought it for him. Herbert placed the shirt back in the drawer then began unbuttoning his white dress shirt, he removed it dropping it to the floor, and then pulled the tank top on.

It was idiotic doing things like this, he was behaving like a love-struck girl, but Dan had been important to him. Important in a way that he couldn’t exactly explain to himself in a way that didn’t make him feel utterly ridiculous. Each positive memory of Dan was followed up by a bad one, Dan had left him in the basement to be clawed and bitten by his monsters, crushed under the structure of the collapsing room.

Dan hadn’t cared if Herbert had lived or died, he had only cared about himself and that stupid girl.

He felt that familiar frustration flood him as he slammed the drawer shut causing the dresser to bang back against the wall. 

Herbert raked his fingers back through his hair, he breathed in deeply through his nose then heavily exhaled through his mouth. Thoughts of Dan were not good for him, he’d spent days depressed and hateful after what had happened between them. It wasn’t until he started distracting himself with his undead friend that he put thoughts of Dan on the back burner.

He left the room going to what was his bedroom, where again he found himself alone. Herbert flopped down onto the center of the bed, he stared up at the ceiling allowing his mind to wander. He found his thoughts did tend to land back on Mr. Cain, he couldn’t help the ache in his chest when he thought about him. Herbert closed his eyes and began remembering the way Dan touched him, the feeling of rough calloused hands touching over his body, fingers digging into his hips until bruises were left behind. The feeling of lips against the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades.

A sigh escaped his lips as the slightly more pleasant memories filled his mind. 

It wasn’t like Dan had been immensely gentle, sometimes he would be. He could be loving, he could hold him and whisper the sweetest things to him when they had sex. Then a lot of times it was rushed, rough, and Herbert knew he hated himself for being with him in that way. There was no holding one another in bed, nothing sentimental. Herbert knew expecting things like that from people was ridiculous.

Herbert groaned when he felt lips press against his exposed lower stomach. His mind was still deep into memories of Dan touching him, but Dan would never be doing this to him.

He felt the cool air of his bedroom hit against his skin sending chills through him as his tank top was slowly pushed up his torso. He felt the shocking hot heat of a tongue pressing against his stomach, nails biting into his hips. He hissed when he felt alarmingly sharp teeth rake against his soft skin.

If he opened his eyes Dan wouldn’t be there, he could feel eyes on him, watching him, and waiting. He knew if he said to stop then everything would stop, but if he begged then things would proceed. By all better judgement, Herbert knew he should stop this, he shouldn’t have made this mistake over and over, it was a mistake just like it had been a mistake with Dan. This was Dan all over again.

Herbert let out a heavy exhale, he felt the tickle of hair against his chest. 

“Stop or go or maybe I should just go.”

Instinctually he placed a hand on the back of his neck, fingers brushing up through thick brown hair. He did not want him to go. Lips pressed against his jaw, he shivered at the rough feeling of facial hair against his skin. 

He felt a hand against his crotch, a firm touch as his partner began rubbing him through his pants. 

Lips pressed against his neck, gentle kisses with a hint of danger.

A tongue pressed against his skin, feeling out a pulse point.

“If you want to bite me you can.”

“You sure?”

Herbert opened his eyes, mostly because he felt the urge to roll them in response to that question. Why did Amilyn sound concerned, what right did he have even pretending he cared? This was casual and unethical, Herbert was supposed to be studying him and finding out how he could be living and dead all at once.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Never said you were, though I have to say you are seriously an asshole.”

Herbert tangled his fingers in his hair tugging hard earning a rather animalistic hiss from the undead man, he also earned an irritated glare. He smirked up at him, there was always something a tad bit enjoyable about irritating Amilyn. 

“Says the man who hisses and growls like some common house pet.” 

He moaned when the hand on his crotch tightened in grip.

“I really meant it when I asked if your arrogant ass is sure, like, are you okay?”

“Yes I’m fine, just get on with it.”

This time the other man rolled his eyes, “romantic as ever.”

Amilyn returned his attention to the other man’s neck, in no time his fangs were buried to the hilt into Herbert’s flesh. There was the feeling of ripping and tearing, a burning pain that made Herbert initially yell out in pain. 

His partner quickly undid the button on his pants, he unzipped them, and then slid his hand beneath the waist band of his boxer briefs taking hold of Herbert’s half hard cock. He slowly stroked him as he continued to suck on his neck drawing his blood to the surface and into his mouth, tongue hungrily lapping at the copper tasting liquid.

It was a strange combination of feelings, he didn’t like admitting it but he was getting accustomed to the feeling of fangs sinking into him, drinking his blood. 

He closed his eyes focusing on the feelings, he found he was close to incapable of associating this with Dan. Herbert’s hips jerked in response to a thumb circling the head of his cock smearing pre-cum over his heated flesh. Dan rarely did things like this for him, if he did then he’d have to recognize who he was being intimate with.

Just a few days. A few days in the beginning where they were soft and gentle, where he could bury his fingers in Dan’s thick soft brown hair, dig his fingers into his back and wrap his legs around his waist. 

He groaned as the fangs exited his skin, he felt the scrapping, the extra burning sensation that was immediately calmed by the tongue lapping at his still bleeding pinprick sized wounds. Lips pressed against the marks, gentle kisses down his throat, his chest. 

Amilyn was a unique creature, a vampire. Herbert hated the word, he refused to believe in such a ridiculous fairytale. He knew the man was dead to a degree, he lacked a pulse, but he was so very much alive. Herbert moaned loudly, back arching when he felt a hot wet mouth around his cock, tongue firmly pressing against the underside slowly moving upwards.

Very lively.

He questioned the logistics of it, when they were having sex he would pick up on different things. Like his mouth was hot and wet, he still got sexually aroused like your average twenty something year old man. For the most part his body seemed to stay room temperature, on occasion he would feel warm to the point of nearly living. Herbert could trick himself into thinking the man was just that, a man, but he knew better. It was the red tint to his endlessly dark brown eyes, the sharp inhuman teeth, the deep growls that were nowhere near human. There was a list of traits that were far from natural or human.

There was the fact he on occasion talked about his old life, the Victorian era, plagues, slaughtering his mother, father, and siblings.

“Fu-fuck”

The growling really added something extra to what Amilyn’s mouth was already doing to him. Herbert pushed his hair out of his face, gently stroking his fingers through the tangled mess. He didn’t know why or how, but the man never seemed to take care of his hair or it just naturally was this frizzed out. There were times he tied it back which caused it to look worse, but in a strangely nice way. 

Herbert looked down at the other man, watched him as he slowly pulled back up until only the tip was left in his mouth, tongue lapping back and forth over the tip. His eyes locked on Herbert’s there was something playful but predatory to the look in his eyes that made him feel embarrassed. Herbert leaned his head back against the bed, he closed his eyes tightly. 

He wasn’t Dan, in no way was he Dan, but the anxiety remained settled deep in his chest. He could turn out that way, maybe not in the sex department, but in other ways.

Herbert placed his hand over his mouth muffling his cries and moans when he climaxed. It was a terrible habit, he felt ashamed at the sounds he would make, they made him feel dirty. Come to think about it, having an undead man between his legs sucking his dick made him feel dirty. Just there was something about it, about him, this was different.

Lips travelled up his body, hands roamed over his heated skin. Amilyn took hold of his wrist pulling his hand away from his mouth, he combed his fingers through Herbert’s short mussed hair.

“Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Cover your mouth, you always put your hand over your mouth, bite your hand, or bury your face in a pillow.”

“It’s embarrassing to make sounds like that.”

Amilyn rolled his eyes, he pressed a kiss against his jaw.

“You seem to like it when I make those sounds.”

He did make nice sounds, a small part of Herbert envied how vocal he was in bed. 

“We never did finish the tests I was running earlier.” 

Herbert decided to change the subject, he was feeling slightly suffocated by the intimacy of their arrangement. Amilyn was still petting his hair, there was something in his eyes that seemed much softer now, and that just made Herbert feel uncomfortable. He didn’t know why he was looking at him in that way, as if he were trying to figure him out. 

“It was boring, what I wanted to do was much more fun.”

Sex, it came down to that a lot.

When it wasn’t sex it was ‘feeding’ or it was the vampire drinking until he passed out on the living room floor. 

“You are the most intriguing thing I’ve found in this area for quite some time, could you please just let me run my tests and experiments on you?”

“Buy me two bottles of whiskey and a bottle of rum, then we’ll talk lover boy.” He kissed his cheek before getting up off of the bed and heading towards the door.

Herbert sat up glaring in the direction of the man with what he now considered the world’s shortest attention span.

“Where are you off to?”

“To shower, we’ve fucked twice today. I could use a shower, you are more than welcome to join me though.”

“No thank you.”

“I’ve killed guys who would pay for that opportunity.” He commented before exiting the room and heading off to the bathroom.

Herbert sat up on the bed, he tucked himself back inside his pants fastening them again, he buried his face in his hands groaning in annoyance. 

Despite what he said or what he even said to himself inside of his own mind he knew he was growing attached to the rotten bastard. He was charming in his own grossly blatant way; shame, personal space, and common courtesy did not exist for him. Perhaps that was the whole point behind being something that truly was the living dead. Amilyn never had to worry about those hang ups, he would out live every person around him. Many would die of old age and sickness, while others he took out himself.

Herbert had asked him in an attempt at an interview just how many people he had killed. At first he had tried counting them on his fingers, but then gave up, shrugged, and threw out the guess it was somewhere in the thousands. He had added that when you lived for so long you had the tendency to wipe out entire civilizations. His biggest brag was taking out the man who sired him.

It had taken some restraint to not make a crude remark about vampire lore. He had listened to him talk about how the man had gotten him when he was twenty-five years of age, he had hired him to look after his home, clean and cook. Normal things; he had come from a very poor family, working for somebody old and wealthy was quite common. No pay, just a roof over his head and his basic needs fulfilled. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on his state of soberness when recounting the moment, the old man hadn’t been exactly human. He had gone into his room while he had been sleeping and ripped into his neck with razor sharp teeth, had cut his own wrist and forced him to drink his infected blood. After that he had belonged to the elder vampire in a new way, a lifetime of servitude. 

As a show of devotion, he had been taken back home, told to go inside and kill his family. 

He had, he had done it will no remorse and no feeling other than a sick sort of glee at their screams and their pleading.

It wasn’t until many years later when he caught on that his master planned on letting him be killed that he decided he’d have to flip the script. In a moment of glory apparently, he had taken out a teenage girl he referred to as a slayer, he had also managed to decapitate the man who sired him.

Normally Herbert would call it all rubbish, but who was he to argue with the drunk undead man who for a week had been crashing on his couch.

He had seen Amilyn kill before and he had to say it was impressive and terrifying. Each time he thought about the nature documentaries he watched on TV as a child, the ones where he would watch a cheetah hunt down and rip into the tender flesh of a slower dumber animal. That was the way Amilyn went about it, he found those who were young, drunk, and too dull to the world around them to notice a genuine threat. He lurked in darkness, pounced on them, and ripped into their jugular. The sight even by Herbert’s standards was repulsive, but it fascinated him. There was something about his eyes, the growling, the way his sharpened nails dug into the clothes of his victims holding them down, the death rattle that escaped their lips as the light left their eyes. 

How that demonic creature was the same one who was currently down the hall in his shower loudly singing a god-awful rendition of a song by the Sex Pistols was beyond him.

All the years he lived, the history he had been a part of, and the only thing he took an interest in was rock music and 80s punk culture.

Admittedly Dan had had his faults of being normal, average. Just Amilyn seemed to obsessively crave this out of tune garbage, he’d often complain about how boring the era of violinists was. 

Herbert wasn’t sure which was worse; having constant thoughts and regrets regarding Dan or starting to wonder just what the actual nature of his relationship with Amilyn was.

Forget sleep, he needed to go back to the basement. Just to clear his head.

He got up from the bed, pulled his shirt back down, and left the room. He felt his eye twitch as he passed the bathroom hearing his roommate’s god awful singing. At least in the basement any sounds he made upstairs would be for the most part muffled out. Herbert needed to invest in fully sound proofing his haven, but he did like knowing at least some of what Amilyn was doing. The last thing he needed was the lunatic burning down his home. 

Once downstairs he planned to play around with his new monster some more, see just how docile it was and if he could possibly train it like a pet. He’d have an easier time training an eye monster than he would training Amilyn.

Herbert expected to find the creation on the tray where he had left it, but it no longer resided there. He searched the basement calling out for it, he didn’t know why he expected it to respond to the sound of his voice, he wasn’t sure yet if hearing was even something it could do. The thought was absolute nonsense, but he did have a vampire in his shower.

He frantically searched every square inch of the basement looking for it, a moment of panic hit him when he realized it was fully possible it got out and managed to find its way upstairs. Herbert rushed back upstairs hoping it wasn’t hurt or lost.

He remembered his last pet, the one he had made for Dan and himself. The one Dan pretended he didn’t like until even he had to admit the monster had a sort of charm to it. The one that had been crushed into nothing but goo and flesh. Herbert felt momentarily sick thinking that could happen to this one, he couldn’t lose a second one. 

“Herbert!”

Fuck.

His body tensed, “What?”

“Come here”

Herbert made his way towards the bathroom, he found Amilyn standing shirtless and soaking wet, long hair plastered against his skin. In his hands he held the eyeball monster.

“I can explain-“

“Did you make this?”

“Yes I did, but see I….I like to run experiments just to see how isolated body parts react to my solution. There are times that I attach a random assortment of appendages together just to test out if they will take to each other and begin acting as one singular creature an-“

“So you make monsters?”

Herbert felt flustered, he was on the verge of retreating to the basement again.

“They aren’t monsters, they are scientific discoveries. I just, please don’t kill George.”

Amilyn quirked an eyebrow at that, he looked from Herbert to the small monster that was nestled on the palm of his hands.

“George….You named it.”

“Yes I did, if you want to be absolutely technical about it….His name is George 2.0”

“You had another one of these?”

“I did, back before you came around, unfortunately he was crushed to death.”

“That sucks, so like we own a pet now?”

“He isn’t, it isn’t a, it’s just a creation of mine.”

“Little creeper was waiting outside the shower watching me.”

“Not everything wants to have sex with you.”

The other man smirked, “says you.”

“So, you absolutely in no way find it disgusting or immoral what I do?”

He watched as Amilyn placed George up on his shoulder.

“I don’t have a soul, I technically died the week after my twenty-fifth birthday, and I killed my twelve-year-old sister. I am not judging you, if anything I believe you are the only interesting fucking mortal I’ve encountered….That’s the reason I haven’t just snapped your neck.” 

Herbert knew he should feel threatened by that, by all of it, but he didn’t.

Amilyn wasn’t like Dan, hell he wasn’t even technically living.

That predatory look was in his eyes again as he slowly approached the slightly smaller man, he placed a hand on Herbert’s lower back pulling him close to himself. He leaned down kissing him deeply, fingers curling against his back.

Being kissed by a dead man was the most alive Herbert had felt in months.


End file.
